


Miserable At Best

by jazzyo3



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: AU, Angst, Car Accident, Fluff, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-20
Updated: 2013-04-20
Packaged: 2017-12-21 16:19:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/902329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jazzyo3/pseuds/jazzyo3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You watch as Michael deals with your death, but that's about all you can do. Based on the song Miserable At Best by Mayday Parade.</p><p>(WARNING: There is a graphic scene including some blood and gore.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Miserable At Best

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based off of the song Miserable At Best by Mayday Parade. I really didn’t plan for it to turn out this long, but I got so into it. I honestly think it turned out well, and it was quite an experience to write. Thank you so much to my followers; consider this a gift to you. Enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

_Don't cry, I know you're trying your hardest  
_ _And the hardest part is letting go of the nights we shared_

 

You would never forget this night. Jet black colored the 2:00 AM sky above you. The stars formed patterns and spread in a sort of equilibrium. The cold air made your lungs sting when you inhaled. Moonlight took a proud display on your boyfriend's face and he soaked it in by grinning. You stared at him and mimicked the expression that he didn't realize he had. He caught you looking at him and laughed, raising an eyebrow.

" _What_ , Gavin?"

You blushed and shook your head. "Just looking... at the moon."

Michael nodded at your response. "It's beautiful," he said.

"Yeah," you agreed and looked back up at him. You hesitated on your words for a moment before you spoke again. "But compared to your eyes, nothing shines quite as bright." Michael smiled at your cheesy compliment and you giggled.

Then you shrugged from your spot on the ground next to him.  "And when we look to the sky... it's not mine." Now Michael was the one staring at you. You didn't notice, but you were gazing up at the moon like you had never noticed it was there before. "But I want it so," you muttered.

Michael pulled you closer, your head comfortably resting upon his collar bone. There was no need to say anything more. You didn't know it then, but you would soon come to find that it wasn't the sky that you admired so much.

It was Michael.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

About two months had passed since that night. You were in love with Michael and you'd remind him all the time. Most of the time he'd return it, but times such as when you were in public, he'd get embarrassed and laugh it off. You didn't care, though. In fact, you'd do it on purpose. He was adorable when he was flustered and you always received an apology when the two of you got home. You'd forgive him without hesitation, or on nights when you felt like it, you'd lean up to his ear and whisper, " _Prove it_."

The two of you spent every day together. When you weren't able to be together due to traveling or work, you'd fill up the time by making each other things. Michael always seemed to draw you things, ranging from little doodles to elaborate portraits. You hung each and every one of them on one of your bedroom walls. They greeted you as you woke up, and comforted you as you fell asleep.

You would make him playlists. Sometimes you'd put them onto CD's and decorate the discs. Other times you’d send the discs undecorated, left for him to just listen to them. And when you felt like mixing things up, you'd send him a list of songs over email, or even leave individual songs for him to find. You knew he listened to them, but you didn't know that he kept all of them. He held each CD in a shoe box along with slips of paper that had every other song you had sent him written on them. He brought that box along with him whenever he traveled and made sure you never caught a glimpse of it. You would've thought it was adorable, but he did well at hiding it.

 

You guys had gone out for dinner one night at a popular restaurant downtown. You didn't really feel like going because you had a headache, but Michael convinced you to. He really wanted to eat out somewhere and you just couldn't turn him down. You could tolerate one night out, right? It was only a headache, only one night. You piled into the car and set out to the restaurant.

Eventually you made it there. Michael had to park three blocks away because there were a lot of cars on the street, but you didn't care. You were with him, and he was excited, and that's all that you cared about. Even though you didn't want to ruin his night, you couldn't help but complain on the walk to the restaurant. "Mich _aeeel_ ," you whined quietly. "My head hurts." Michael looked at you and kissed your forehead. Your face lit up and suddenly the pain was drowned out by his presence. "Nevermind," you giggled.

You finally entered the building and both of you caught your breath. A hostess immediately found a booth for you and you sat across from each other. You started to kick the center beam of the table out of habit, but it was actually Michael's leg.

"Fucking knock it _off_ , Gavin!" Michael snapped at you, smiling to ease the severity.

"Oh, sorry!" you replied and laughed at his irritation. He shook his head and looked back down at the menu.

"Idiot," he muttered.

You ordered a hamburger and Michael ordered hot wings. You shared your food with each other, though, of course. You talked about a lot of things. You would eventually forget what they were, but you knew that they provoked a lot of laughter and some harsh stares from the tables surrounding yours.

Your headache came back even stronger due to the bright lights and people talking. You gritted your teeth and dealt with it. Your evening was almost finished, and Michael had promised you a bubble bath and some Aspirin when you got home. You looked forward to it and smiled at the thought.

Michael had noticed your restlessness and did his best to pay as quickly as he could. "Sorry, babe," he cooed as he rested a hand on yours. You just smiled at him and shrugged. "It'll all be over soon enough," you joked.

Your bill was finally paid and the two of you left in a hurry. You held hands and walked down the first block until you reached the crosswalk. Michael pressed the button about twelve times, "just to be sure." You both chuckled and waited until the little walking man blinked across from you.

Your heart lit up as you began to walk because you knew that soon you would be home and able to relax. You would be with Michael. His drawings would sing you to sleep and say good morning as you woke up tomorrow. Oh, those drawings -- you couldn't wait to see them. You just wanted to go home.

Michael giggled at your excitement and stayed a few steps behind you, unable to keep up with your speed.

 

Without warning, the head of the line of oncoming cars that was supposed to stop continued to drive, crashing into your body and just barely missing Michael.

 

Before anyone could fathom what had happened, blood was spilling down the street, painting the white crosswalk dark red. The car wasn't moving anymore, and neither were you. Your body was twisted into the front of the vehicle. Your blood seeped through the crevices of the bumper and tires. Your shoe was the only thing that had separated far enough from your body to be spotted quite a few feet away. Michael's face was now splattered with what was once flowing through your veins. Time stopped and Michael was left there, standing. Staring. Frozen.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

It took the coroner two days to deliver your death report to Michael. The man who ran you over was sentenced to trial. The road was blocked off and cleaned up after three hours. Small drops of your blood could still be spotted, however, and people stared as they walked by. Your body had made a big enough impact on the car that it was totaled, seeing as it had been speeding down a hill before it made contact with you. Your body was mangled in the wreck and only the lower halves of your legs were mostly intact. Michael had somehow managed to take your shoe with him despite the investigation process.

Meanwhile, Michael was absolutely broken. When you were hit, he was frozen in shock for what felt like years. When he came to his senses, he ran to the wreck and tried to... what, _save you_? There was no chance, but he thought he could do something. **Anything.** He held onto your shoulder and your blood coated his hands. He was too numb to cry or move. When the police arrived, he could not speak. They tried to ask him questions but he didn't even look at them. They had to contact him again the next day.

He returned to your apartment that night not knowing what to expect. But when he walked through, he couldn't believe it. Every single thing in the apartment was the same as when you had left it, but it hurt him so much. Your favorite video game still laid face-up on the coffee table. Your car keys sat on the counter, next to the mug that you had bought him for Christmas. He walked through the hallway. Pictures of you both hung on the wall, staring at him. Your toothbrush sat in its holder and the coconut-scented body wash that you made him buy sat in the shower. He entered the bedroom. This part was the worst.

Every drawing he had created for you rest upon the wall, mocking him. Little figurines and trinkets you had bought together stood upon the dresser. Your clothes mingled on the floor with his. The bed was unmade, and your pillow was still indented from where you'd slept only a few hours before. He could smell your cologne, and he could imagine your body lying there in the bed -- then he imagined it lying there, on the crosswalk.

He could hardly breathe and he started to feel faint. He ran out of the apartment as fast as he could. He kept running; down the stairs, across the parking lot, down the block. He eventually stopped in his tracks and just stood there. After a moment, he dropped to his knees. Everything in him wanted to sob, but he couldn't. There were no tears, no noises. He just clutched at his eyes and pictured you, lying there, on the crosswalk.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

You didn't know what to do.

 

Where were you now? _What_ were you? What was happening?

You slowly realized. You were dead. You were... dead.

A car hit you.

You _died_.

But... what about Michael? You never made it home? He didn't slip under the covers next to you? The drawings weren't there to put you to sleep? No... you would never be able to do those things again.

But... but that's not important. Michael -- your boyfriend, Michael. What happened to him?

 

Over time you learned more and more about you and your surroundings. You managed to work out that people could not see or hear you, but you were still there with them. You slowly got used to this state of being, but you didn't appreciate it. You wanted to be... human. You wanted to be alive, with Michael. And that was **never** going to happen again.

You wandered around the place where you had died. You were disoriented, but over time, you managed to find your way to your home. At least, your _old_ home.

You could physically interact with things, but they didn't "count" in the real world. If you moved an object, nobody else could see it moving. To them, it didn’t happen, because you weren't really there.

You walked into your apartment. It was empty, and you and Michael had forgotten to turn off the kitchen light before you left that night.

 

You didn't know what to do.

 

You sat on the couch gently and looked around. You had trouble believing that you were... a ghost? Spirit? Whatever you were, you didn't feel like it. Not at this very moment. You turned on the TV, expecting it not to work for some reason. It did, though, and you stared at it. You didn't pay attention to it, but it occupied you for a while.

Later, there was a noise at the door. Someone was unlocking it. You were scared. " _Who's coming into my apartment?_ " you thought.

A few seconds later the door swung open and Michael stood in the doorway. You didn't even think about the possibility that it could've been Michael. It was hard to think at all, really.

Michael closed the door behind him softly. You were confused because it was already noisy due to the television, but then you remembered -- he can't hear that. You turned the TV off and scrambled to walk up to him. He completely ignored you and just stood there, gazing. You positioned yourself in front of him.

You placed your hands on his shoulders. He didn't look you in the eye, but instead he looked all around the apartment. You panicked.

"Michael!" you shouted. You tried to shake his shoulders. "Michael -- _fucking **look** at me!_ "

He stared through you.

You held his face in your hands. It felt just like you remembered. The feeling comforted you. You missed him... you missed him so much. And he technically wasn't even here with you. You were going to stroke his cheek with your thumb but he started to walk forward, and he walked right through your body.

This hadn't happened to you yet. You looked at him. Nothing changed. You didn't feel anything. You were extremely confused and you patted your body, seeing if anything would go through. It didn't. It must have just been people in the real world that could go through you. This made you upset, but you put it aside and followed Michael.

He slowly trudged through the apartment and you walked close behind. You watched as he looked at the pictures on the wall, the items in the bathroom, the contents of the bedroom. He continued to stare, this time his gaze fixated on the bed.

You walked over and picked up a pillow. You chucked at him, just to see if anything would happen. It didn't. It went through his chest and landed behind him. To him, it didn't move. You bit your lip and tried not to be upset. This was you now, and you were going to have to get used to it.

All of a sudden, Michael ran for the door. You ran after him, lost but not wanting to lose him ever again. He ran farther than you thought he would, and when he stopped, he broke down.

The sight would've made you cry if you had figured out how to produce tears yet. You knelt down with him and put a hand on his back as he sat there, and you could tell that he was upset. You knew that he couldn't cry either. There was _something_ you shared.

You wrapped your arms around him, trying to pull him in for an embrace, but he didn't move so you just held onto him. He was your anchor, and you were still on this earth because of him. He wasn't done with you.

_Everything I can give  
_ _Is everything you can't take  
_ _Nothing feels like home, you're a thousand miles away  
_ _And the hardest part of living  
_ _Is just taking breaths to stay_

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

Over time, you adjusted to your new presence, and Michael adjusted to his new life. This isn't to say that either of you enjoyed the new change, obviously. But you adjusted, because you had to.

Your friends all did their best to comfort Michael. They'd bring him food, call him, invite him out -- he appreciated it, but he still wasn't himself. He promised himself that he'd never go back to that apartment, at least not for a long time. Ray offered to give him a place to stay, and he accepted. You were proud of how well Ray took care of him on the days where he couldn't leave his bed or didn't feel like eating. Those days came often, actually. Michael lost a lot of weight while grieving you and your friends worried about him. They always pushed food on him, but he most often declined; not because he didn't want to eat, but he just couldn't. His body was rejecting itself. Your heart ached at the condition he was in.

 

You came with him to his first day back at work. Technically, it was _your_ first day back, too. The building and the people affected you just as much as it did him. He slowly stepped into the office and received welcome and hugs from everyone. You wished that they'd hug you, but you comforted yourself knowing that they would if they could.

You also knew that each of them talked to you every now and then when they thought no one was around. You heard it, and you talked back. You didn't know if they heard you, but you talked to them anyway. You told them all about what life was like for you, and they didn't show any response, but you knew that they'd be amazed by your stories. You pretended that they were there with you, and it made you feel a little better.

Michael started working at his desk and you sat next to him at your old desk. You touched all of your old things and picked them up individually. Michael had asked the guys to keep your stuff there. He probably wanted to feel like you were still there, sitting next to him. You were, but he didn't know that.

You watched him intently as he worked away at his computer. The guys tried to make conversation with him, but he couldn't really hold a conversation. He did his best to act like his old normal self, but they knew he was different now and they respected that. Every now and then you'd get up to see what they were doing on their computers. You'd touch their shoulder or knock something over on their desk. You laughed, but they didn't.

About halfway through the day, Michael got up for lunch. You followed him out the door and wished you could eat with him, but there was no point in you eating; you didn't need to survive because you were already dead. He'd walked halfway to the kitchen before he began to stumble a bit, and he reached his arms out in front of him, looking for something to hold onto.

"I-I can't see!" he shouted. You grabbed his hands without realizing that you weren't actually helping him, and he fell down. Geoff ran out of the office to help him, soon followed by the rest. You just stood there and stared, knowing that there was nothing you could do. You panicked nonetheless and tried to figure out what was happening.

"God damn it," Jack muttered. "He's passed out. Grab a pillow," he instructed. Ray ran and retrieved a pillow, giving it to Jack to place under Michael's feet.

"We need to keep his feet elevated," he explained to the rest, and Geoff brought back an ice pack to put on his forehead.

After a couple minutes, he woke up. He asked what happened. They told him that he'd passed out, and he just replied with an, "Oh."

"You dumbass," Geoff scolded him. "You need to fucking _eat_ , and drink water."

Michael just nodded. "I know."

You knelt down and kissed his lips, not caring that he couldn't return it.

 

Your friends weren't the only ones to talk to you, though. Michael talked to you, every day. He talked to you as he went throughout his day. When he was alone making a sandwich or something, he'd mumble to you about the dream he had last night. When he was taking a shower, he'd talk about his day, or how something reminded him of you. He talked to you most when he was in bed. You'd cuddle up next to him and watch as he stared towards the ceiling.

"Gavin, I'm _so_ fucking sorry."

He actually started to cry. This was the first time he'd cried since your death. It hit you hard. You just looked up at him and tried to wipe the tears away.

"This is my fault," he mumbled so quietly that you could barely hear it. "No!" you shouted at him. "It's -- it's _mine_!"

"I never should have forced you to go out. I never should have made you leave when you had a headache. You said, ' _It'll all be over soon enough_ ,' and you... don't realize how right you were." His face twisted as he thought about you.

Your face was wet, and you thought it was Michael's tears. Then you realized that they were _your_ tears. You were crying, too.

"I hate myself every day for this, Gav."

You yelled at him. " **Stop!** Stop it, Michael!"

He kept talking. "I killed you. You're dead, and you're not coming back."

You screamed, but no one heard you. You squeezed him tight against you. "Please _stop_..."

He didn't say anything for another ten minutes, and you thought that he'd fallen asleep. You didn't feel okay with the way that he'd left off, but you were grateful that you didn't have to feel the sobs racking through his body anymore. You shut your eyes.

"You know..." he started, and your eyes flashed open.

"Things... I don't know, they're not so bad." You watched his facial movements. "My friends... _our_ friends, they've helped me so much." You smiled.

"Things will never be the same, Gav. But... they're okay. I'm okay. Even though you're not here."

He sighed and your head moved along with his chest.

"I guess I _can_ live without you."

Something from you lifted. You felt different. His acceptance gave you an immense amount of relief, and you admired him so much for it. You held onto him and smiled into his shirt.

"But without you, I'll be miserable at best."

With that, the two of you eventually drifted off to sleep, holding a strange feeling of content.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

Michael still talked to you every day and every night. He started eating again, and he gained the weight that he had lost. You were so proud of him. He talked to friends more, and he got more work done. He went out in public and he did shopping on his own. He talked to Ray about living there and told him that he would be okay with moving back now. This was four months later. Ray patted his shoulder, smiled at him and congratulated him. "You're coming back."

It didn't take long for him to move back because he didn't take much of anything with him to Ray's. Everything was in its place like it had been, but Michael's heart didn't sting at the sight this time. He did the scan that he had done months ago, but this time he smiled. He loved seeing things that reminded him of you. He missed you, but he loved you.

He assured Ray that he'd be able to sleep there that night, and Ray trusted him. He'd watched some Drake and Josh like you two used to do together. He made two cups of tea like he used to when you were there. Since you couldn't drink yours, he did it for you. He turned off the lights on his way to the bedroom and slipped into bed. It was still unmade on your side, so he brought the blankets up for you. He left your pillow the way it was, and he could still smell you on it. His drawings were now comforting _him_ as he fell asleep, and before he shut his eyes, he whispered a goodnight to you. You kissed his cheek and slept next to him, mumbling, " _I love you, I love you, I love you_ ," over and over again.

 

While Michael was walking in town on his way to the bank, he realized that he'd have to cross the crosswalk that you were hit on. He felt nauseous and almost considered turning back, but he didn't. He knew that needed to face it, because that was a popular area of town and he was bound to come across it again. You held his hand as you walked up to the crosswalk together, and he pressed the button, just once. You weren't there for him to entertain, but you still wished he'd have pushed it twelve times, just to be sure.

He kept his head down as he walked, absorbing every feeling that came to him as he stepped across each white line. Between two of the lines were four or five dark brown spots. They were very faded and you really had to try to notice them, but Michael noticed regardless. He swallowed his gasp and kept walking. He finally made it to the other side of the street, and you grinned. "Good job, sweetheart," you praised him. He smiled to himself a little bit and kept walking. You continued to hold his hand and strolled right alongside him.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

One night, the guys invited Michael to a night out. Michael agreed with a, "Why not?" You laughed and watched him as he got himself ready. "Look at _you_ , Mr. Handsome," you remarked as he looked at himself in the mirror. Ray picked him up and they left to go meet the others at a bar downtown. You rode in the backseat of Ray's car, wearing a seatbelt and everything. You knew it was silly, but you wanted to be a part of their outing. You hadn't had a night out with the guys for over seven months, after all.

You walked with them into the bar and they greeted each other. You went along with it, saying, "Hey, lads!" with no response. They all made their way to the bar, some separating with others.

Michael, Ray, and Geoff stood together at the bar and you leaned against it next to them. Michael and Geoff ordered beers, and Ray ordered a soda. The two began their drinking and you felt left out. You walked behind the counter and took a beer from the shelf, knowing that there were no consequences for you. You joined them again and drank as they did, laughing at the jokes they shared, and even telling some of your own.

Later on in the night, they started playing music for the dance floor. Ray and Jack went to go dance like idiots and you laughed at them, calling them " _plebs_." Geoff parted from Michael to go watch them and Michael stayed at the bar. You wrapped your arm around his waist. He looked bored, and he was starting to realize that nights out weren't as fun without you there. You sympathized and kissed his cheek. "It'll all be over soon enough, babe."

A few songs passed and now all of the guys were dancing like idiots together, except for Michael. He stood in his spot and drank more and more. He drank slowly since there was nothing else to occupy his time with. Ray had offered him to join them at one point, but he politely declined. You stayed there with him and rubbed his back as he downed more beers.

A group of girls had formed on the opposite side of the room and were staring your group of friends. They giggled and walked up to join them, looking for something fun to do. You raised an eyebrow and silently applauded the lads' ability to attract girls in such a way. Michael laughed under his breath and you could tell that he was thinking the same thing.

Then you noticed that one of the girls wasn't really joining in with her friends. Instead, she was looking around. You watched her as she scanned, her eyes stopping on the bar. You felt bad for her because she obviously wasn't having as much fun as the rest of them. She looked like she was making eye contact with someone after a moment, and you tried to see who it was. It seemed like it was in your direction. But you were dead, so it wasn't you. Was it... Michael? "That's weird," you thought. Michael didn't catch the attention of most people due to his anti-social disposition. Besides that, he'd always been with you on nights out, your arms around each other like drunken lovebirds.

You glanced at Michael's face to see if he'd been looking back, and he was. He didn't have an expression, but they were indeed making eye contact. You shrugged and turned your attention back to your friends who were causing quite a commotion on the dance floor.

After a few minutes, you noticed that the girl wasn't there anymore. You didn't quite care, but you hadn't seen her leave. You looked back at Michael who was still absent-mindedly drinking and poked his cheek, giggling because he didn't notice. Then you saw her again. She was at the bar, ordering a drink.

Every now and then, she would sideways glance at Michael. You frowned. What was she doing?

Michael didn't notice at first, but after a few minutes, he saw her looking at him. He awkwardly laughed and held up a few fingers as a wave. She took that as an invitation and made her way over to him.

You felt weird. Why was she coming over here? Can't she see that you two were having a nice time together? Oh... well, she couldn't. But that was no reason for her to walk over.

She smiled wide and held her hand out. She introduced herself, but you didn't remember or care what her name was. Something about her didn't sit right with you. Michael introduced himself shyly and you squeezed his arm. " _Stop_ ," you mumbled. You didn't want him to talk to her.

She twirled her hair as she talked. You wanted to grab it and cut it off, but you just stood there and watched. They talked for several more minutes and you grew angrier as the conversation progressed. "Michael, stop being a _prick_ ," you tried to shout at him over the music. He was now turned towards her and listening to what she was saying intently. You furrowed your eyebrows and glared at him. " **Stop!** "

The music faded and transitioned into a slow song. Your friends left the floor, still laughing about their own antics. You watched as the lights dimmed and couples started to fill the area. What's-her-face started to talk again and you winced.

"Hey," she said. She gestured towards the dance floor. "You wanna dance, maybe?"

Michael bit his cheek and looked awkward. After a moment of hesitation, he shrugged and nodded. "Sure." They set down their drinks and went off to the dance floor together.

Your heart sank. He really just agreed to dance with someone else. You felt sick. You felt like he was finally replacing you. This wasn't supposed to happen. He told you every day and every night that he loved you. He knew that you could hear him... didn't he?

You followed them. Michael awkwardly put his arms around her waist and she placed her hands on his neck. They started moving to the music and they searched each other's faces. You just stood there. That was all that you could do. You tried to grab his arm and pull it away, you tried to remove her hands, but nothing worked. You weren't there.

The music swelled along with your emotions and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. You turned around to look for help, anything. You saw your friends, but they were just pointing at Michael and smiling. They were happy... They were happy for him.

You felt betrayed by everyone.

The second song came along and the girl leaned up to rest her head against Michael's shoulder. Michael processed the action and held her a little closer in return. Then he smiled. You felt your heart drop and your head was pounding. Your face contorted as you stood and watched your boyfriend dancing with someone else, and enjoying it.

 

_Let's not pretend like you're alone tonight  
_ _I know she's there  
_ _You're probably hanging out and making eyes  
_ _While across the room, she stares  
_ _I bet she gets the nerve to walk the floor  
_ _And ask my boy to dance, and he'll say yes_

 

The slow songs stopped and you sighed. _Finally_. The guys had agreed to leave around then so Michael said his goodbyes with this girl and left with Ray. You still felt terrible but you were glad it was over. It was just a dance, though. You ran this through your head as you sat in the backseat and tried to comfort yourself.

"So, you get her number?" Ray asked Michael. You groaned. Of _course_ he would bring it up.

Michael was startled. "W-What? Who?"

Ray laughed. "The _girl_ , Michael."

You slammed your head against the seat. You wished they would just shut up.

"Oh." Michael shrugged. "Yeah... Why?"

Ray smirked at him. "Good job."

You crossed your arms and felt even worse than you had before. Michael dropped it, though, which was kind of nice. You followed him into your apartment. He got ready for bed and lay down. You curled up next to him, like you usually did. You waited for him to talk to you, but minutes passed and you didn't hear anything.

"Michael?" you said and looked at him. He was asleep. He'd gone to sleep without saying goodnight. You let out a small, sad sigh but let it go. He was probably just tired.

 

—————————————————————————————————————————

 

You noticed that Michael started texting with this girl quite often. He even met her in public a few times. Days passed, and you'd never felt more insignificant. He stopped gazing at the pictures on the walls like he used to when he'd walk down the hallway. He stopped using your body wash, and put your video game away. He smiled and was happy, but not because of you. He didn't talk to you anymore. This hurt. Even your friends still talked to you. He didn't.

Michael went to bed one night and you took your usual place beside him. You cuddled against him even though you know he wasn't thinking about you. You couldn't let go of him, not the way he had done to you. You listened to the slow breaths that filtered through his chest and it calmed you down. You were now used to the silence of him not talking to you, so you let your eyes close to drift asleep.

The silence was interrupted.

"This will be the first time in a week that I'll talk to you." Your heart leapt at his voice.

It was almost like he noticed that you were there, arms wrapped around his body. For some reason, you felt like if you spoke, he could hear you. You dared to answer him.

"Michael, where'd you go? I feel like you've forgotten about me. I dream of her lips on your cheek..." you trailed off.

Michael spoke again. "Gavin." It seemed like he was testing out your name, feeling the way it sounded in his mouth, rolling it around his tongue because it was unfamiliar. "Gavin..." he repeated.

You stared in awe as he repeated your name. It felt so right to hear him say it. It belonged to him, and it was his to use. You wished he would use it more often.

"Michae--" you started, but he cut you off.

"I was stupid again." He admitted this to you, and you couldn't help but nod.

"I'm sorry. I let you go. Why in the _fuck_ did I do that?" He was asking himself more than he was asking you. You spoke to him.

"I don't know, Michael. But it doesn't matter, right? I've always been right here. I never left. I got the point that I should leave you alone... but we both know that I'm not that strong." You sighed in defeat.

"She wasn't anything you were -- _are_. You are mine. I know you must hear me, Gav. Give me a sign. Give me anything. I'm so fucking sorry." Michael was desperate. You bit your lip. You felt awful for him.

Your mind scrambled as you tried to figure out how to show him that you were here. You needed to prove it to him. You got up and began to knock things off the dresser, throw clothes everywhere, flip the lights on and off. Nothing happened and you knew that it didn't work. You sighed. You still hadn't mastered being _you_ yet.

 

You didn't know what to do.

 

You decided to try your best to let him feel you. You slowly walked back to the bed and lay next to him again. You faced him and stared into his eyes. He was becoming more doubtful by the second.

You very carefully placed a hand onto his shoulder and squeezed. You put all of your energy towards your hand, hoping, praying that he could feel you.

His eyes opened wider and he inhaled sharply. You didn't know if that was an indication that it worked, but you continued.

You leaned in and placed your lips upon his. With as much concentration as you could muster, you kissed him. The kiss was sweet and soft, and you kept it going. You focused as hard as you could, and then you felt something. His lips were responding to you.

He was returning the kiss.

You let it last for a few more moments before pulling away and looking at him. His face was shocked.

"Gav... Gavin?" he breathed.

You grinned. You squeezed his shoulder again, harder this time. He reached his hand up to touch it. You felt his hand brush against yours and it made your heart race. He could feel you.

"I love you, Michael," you said softly, still watching his eyes for any reactions. He blinked and a smile spread across his face.

"I love you."

You beamed at the response. You felt a million times lighter. You were with him, and he knew it.

 

_You're all that I hoped to find in every single way  
_ _And everything I gave is everything you couldn't take  
_ _'Cause nothing felt like home  
_ _You were a thousand miles away  
_ _The hardest part of living was just taking breaths to stay  
_ _'Cause I knew I was good for something  
_ _I just hadn't found it yet, and I needed it_


End file.
